


Dangerous

by sunflower1343



Category: Crimson Spell
Genre: M/M, Primative POV, Sex, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-09
Updated: 2014-09-09
Packaged: 2018-02-16 18:52:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2280822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunflower1343/pseuds/sunflower1343
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vald rescues Havi in beast form, told from its POV, with the limited understanding it had in its earliest days that way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dangerous

**Author's Note:**

> This is the only fic I've ever written for Crimson Spell. Originally written for Alice Montrose on her birthday, June 25, 2005.
> 
> ~~~~~~~

With a growl he shook his head to clear it. Strange violent dreams had awakened him. He flared his nostrils, searching for that one particular scent, the scent that meant obedience, the scent that meant pleasure. It had been there most nights when he woke up lately. But tonight it was missing.

He cautiously raised his head, eyes wide and alert for anyone who might trap him - the One he might let trap him, and all the others who just deserved to die. He sniffed again. There were faint scents on the air, strange ones, ones that made his hackles rise.

He twitched as a familiar form appeared on the edge of the clearing. The little animal, the little food. Only it had helped him before, so he wouldn't eat it. Not yet. He let it come closer. Sounds came out of its mouth, sounds that had no meaning to him. The other creature, the pleasure creature, he made the sounds too. Sometimes they were strong and angry, sometimes they soothed him. This one's sounds were pitiful and scared. He smelled the fear on it.

It came up to him and tugged on his arm. He swatted it away. He didn't like touch, not from this one, not from anyone but the One. The little one came back, shaking. Then it ran to the riding creature and tugged something to the ground. 

His senses instantly sharpened. Sword. The Sword. He was on his feet immediately, striding quickly, bending, picking up the Sword. It hit his hand and something roared to life within him. Completion. 

The Dark Voices flooded into his head, demanding blood, demanding death, allowing power at the cost of these two things. He didn't understand the words, yet he understood what they meant. _Kill. KILL._ It was overwhelming. He needed to hunt. The small one darted in front of him, wary now. Its sounds were soothing, beckoning. It skittered away in the direction it had come from, towards the strange scents. Scents he could kill.

He sprang after the small one, knowing it meant to lead him to prey, letting it live one more night as it served him yet again. They raced through the forest, leaves not even moving at their passage. The small one kept just ahead, teasing him with the thought of what lay ahead, what called him, food and fight, blood and death. His own blood answered with a scream. The little one looked back, its scent now one of terror, of an animal that knew it faced death. 

With one last burst of speed they broke into another clearing. Shouts arose from the creatures in it. He took it all in in a glance. The pleasure creature, His Creature, lay in the middle of these strange ones, his blood all around. Fury flooded him and he let the Dark Voices take power, all blood theirs. 

He snapped and roared. The Voices howled in glee. Blood spurted from slash after slash, coating him, spraying him, gushing across his body, until it filled his eyes, his nose, his mouth. It covered him and he soaked it up, wanting more, more pain, more terror, more death. He could vaguely see forms through the red. At first they fought, then they froze, then they panicked and fled. But all met death. All met him, in blood and fury.

Soon the clearing was still. The Voices were not. _More. More blood. There are two More._ He turned towards the center of the clearing, where the last two lived. _Kill. Kill. Blood._ He growled. There was something different about these two. _Death. Drink blood._ Something that made him push back. He moved towards them. His arms raised the Sword. The small one jumped on front of the other, its sounds high pitched and loud and frantic. 

The Small One. He paused. He knew this one. This one who had brought him to his prey. His arms froze against the immense pressure pushing them down, urging death. This one was not to die, not yet, not while it served him. One hand let go of the Sword, and knocked the Small One to the side.

He shook his head. Something mingled in with the smell of blood, something familiar, something sweet, something he craved more than blood. He stilled and his body relaxed. The Sword fell from his hand, the Voices howling in rage as the connection was broken. 

It was the One, the one he had been craving, lying so still before him. It didn't wear its skins, and was wounded in many places. There was a chain about its neck that smelled bad, wrong. He ripped it off and threw it aside. He crouched over the body, sniffing. Good. Alive. It was alive. The scent of death was present, but not from this one. He felt a warm rush at that, though he didn't understand why. He began to lick its wounds, tongue drawing up that sweet blood into his mouth. He began to quiver with pleasure. Yes, this one was the source of all pleasure. Even lying still on the ground, it gave off pleasure.

He licked the scented skin, cleaning all blood, all wounds. The wounds seemed to lessen as his own pleasure grew, a slight glowing about them as his tongue dipped into them, washing and coating them with his saliva.

The other was feeling pleasure too. Its body hardened. That soft part that grew thick and long and caused such good feelings when it was inside him. He felt his own body hardening in answer. He moved his mouth to the other's hard part. The sweet scent was strongest here. He buried his nose in the softness at its base. His tongue, unable to resist its nearness, flicked out for a taste. The flavor was addictive. He began licking the hardness with long strokes of his tongue, his hand grasping it and squeezing it to hold it still. 

A noise came from the one underneath him. He stilled and sniffed the air, but the other didn't move, and the clearing was silent. The small one lay to the side, watching. He went back to his task, licking and stroking, wanting more of the flavor. His mouth took in the whole of the hardness, sucking to get the taste he craved. He pulled it deep into his mouth, still moving his tongue against it. 

The sounds were again coming from the one beneath him, but he was no longer alarmed. He knew they were safe for the moment, and he knew the sounds for pleasure sounds. He sucked harder, and heard the sound again. He played the game for a little while, listening with ears alert. Lick. Suck. Sound. Lick. Lick. Suck. Sound. His mouth stretched wide, his body tickled with some joy he had never known. A sound came out of him, little breaths with noises full of happiness. He sucked long and hard, and the sound grew loud, pleasure intensifying. It made him want something more.

His skin was tingly. His hair stood on end. He was on all fours over the One, and his body remembered. It felt empty, that place. He had been like this before, but the other had filled him from behind. But the other was not moving. Except for the sounds and the hands twitching a little, it was still. He remembered another time, when the one was lying this way and he moved on top of him. He was filled, but he caused his own pleasure. He could do that now.

He crawled up over the body, and positioned his opening over the hardness, then pushed down. It felt good. It was what he'd wanted and needed. He pushed down hard, ignoring the pain he knew would fade if he moved right. He lifted himself up and pushed down, again and again, looking for that pleasure spot. He tilted back, leaning on his hands, and thrust again and found it. Growls were coming from his mouth as his movements became faster. His tongue lolled between his fangs as he panted.

He felt hands grasp his hips, and his eyes flew to the other one's face, where its eyes were now watching him. It made soft encouraging noises, the hands urging him on. He drove faster, the pleasure soon overwhelming him. A hand was around his hardness, stroking it the way he had stroked the other with his tongue. Now the sounds were coming from him.

The other grew stronger and sat up. One hand stroking his back and arms, one still between his legs. Now a mouth was on his body licking and tickling and biting. The thrusts grew even faster, the body underneath now thrusting up as he thrust down. Pleasure, all was pleasure and sweetness and he lost control and came, warm and happy. He vaguely felt the other's warmth spurting inside him as he fell to unconsciousness.

**

Havi carried the now sleeping Vald, human again, to a stream nearby to wash the blood from them both. While he bathed them, Rulca explained how he had returned to their camp to find the beast had awakened in Val for some unknown reason; he thought perhaps it was because he sensed Havi was in danger. But he knew the beast was their only hope, so he gave him the sword. Havi stilled.

"Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?"

Rulca looked annoyed. "Oh yes, you could have gotten your head cut off, instead of being tortured, raped, _then_ getting your head cut off."

"Watch it, rabbit. I could use a new fur collar for my cloak."

Rulca scowled. "Is that all the thanks I get? It was _my_ action that saved you. You were helpless against their amulet. Only the beast Vald could help you and I brought him. He trusted me and followed me."

"Hmmpf. He probably more likely thought you a snack to eat."

"I wasn't the one being eaten." Somehow the rabbit smirked.

Havi shot him an annoyed glance. "At any rate, we are safe now. I'll admit that your actions, as misguided as they were, may have helped out in some small way."

"Some small way. You miserable wizard. Next time he wants to eat you, and I mean that in a bad way, I'm going to offer him the skewers to stick you on." The bunny stuck its tongue out and ran off.

Havi gathered the still-sleeping Vald into his arms and carried him back to their camp. He laid him down in the nest they'd made earlier of their cloaks, then knelt beside him and let his hand caress the boy's cheek, wondering just what kind of bond had been created between them.

"Why didn't you kill me tonight, Vald? You had the chance. After you killed the others, you could have killed me and run wild and free. Why didn't you?"

He stared a moment longer, then leaned forward and softly kissed Vald's lips. Part of him was glad the boy couldn't hear. He wasn't sure he was ready to have his questions answered. 

He decided it was best to think about other things, like the amulet that had crippled his powers. That was far less dangerous than this boy who crippled his resolve. He moved away, leaving such risky thoughts for another day.

 

~end~


End file.
